


Freaky Friday

by hannahindie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Body Swap, Crack, Dean Winchester - Freeform, F/M, Freaky Friday - Freeform, Reader Insert, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, han writes the stuff, spn fanfic, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 02:59:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16884384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahindie/pseuds/hannahindie
Summary: Sam and Dean wake up in places they weren’t when they fell asleep. In the mean time, the brothers find out things about each other they weren’t expecting, and quite frankly didn’t need, to know. Will things work out in the end, or will the path to fixing it cause more issues?





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an eight part series, and I haven't tagged all characters to keep from ruining anything. There is language and some adult themes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wakes up to a surprise, and Sam finds out the hard way what kind of stuff Dean is into.

**Dean’s POV**

I’m dying. I’m actually dying. I don’t remember what the hell happened last night, but mistakes were made. My eyes feel like someone held them open and poured sand into them, and I think I can actually hear my eyelids move when I blink. I can hear running water, and I remember that not all of last night was a mistake. A little ‘hair of the dog’ should do the trick if I can manage to pull my face off this pillow. Oh God, it’s bright in here. Why is it so damn bright? The water turns off and I smile to myself. The good part of my night is about to walk through that bathroom door, and I’m going to turn my good night into a good morning. I watch as the bathroom door slowly opens and _that is not the leggy blonde I went home with_. It’s Y/N. What the hell is she wearing, and why is she looking at me like that? Are those…are those Harry Potter robes? 

She leans against the doorway and slowly slips her bare leg through the front slit of the robes. All I can manage to croak out is a quiet, “What?” 

 “Mornin’, sleepyhead. Are you ready?”  

Ready for what? I’m about 99% sure I don’t want to know what I’m supposed to be ready for.  

I clear my throat, “R-ready for what?” Stuttering is not normally a problem for me, but it’s like my mouth forgets how to form words as I watch Y/N slip herself down the door frame like she’s grinding a stripper pole.  

“Opening my Chamber of Secrets, big boy.” Y/N is slowly making her way towards the bed and, I’m not gonna lie, I’m a little torn. It’s not like I hadn’t thought about her like that when she first met up with us, but it’s Y/N. I can’t do this. 

I sit up and scoot towards the far side of the bed, “Hold on there, Hermione, I’m not sure what brought this on, but let’s just think about this for a minute.” She’s smiling at me like she knows a secret, and I can tell my eyes are about as wide as they can get.  

“Oh, we’re going with Hermione? That’s fine, I thought we’d decided on Luna this time, but if you want to change it up, Hermione it is.” What the hell does she mean, _this time_? Now she’s at the end of the bed, and from this angle I can tell she’s not wearing a damn thing under those robes. Hmm. Maybe I could…dammit Dean, quit thinking with your dick.  

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about-”  

Y/N climbs onto the bed and begins slowly crawling towards me, her eyes sparkling. I’ve seen that look, and if I don’t move, I’m not going to have much of a choice in what happens next. “Don’t you want to tame my whomping willow, Longbottom?” she says with a wink. Longbottom? How much did this woman have to drink?  

“Y/N, don’t get me wrong, taming your whomping willow would be an excellent way to spend my morning, but I gotta be honest, I think you might still be drunk.”  

She pauses for a second as if contemplating why I might be brushing her off, but grins again, “Playing hard to get are we, Neville? Come on, make me scream like a mandrake, show me how good you are at catching that golden snitch.” She launches herself at me, and I shove backwards. My hands grab nothing but air and both of us fall off the bed and hit the floor hard. Holy shit, that hurt. Y/N is on top of me and…oh Jesus, the robe is open. There they are, her perfect, pale breasts are right there just begging to be licked or sucked or just touched. I feel a twitch down below and I practically throw her off of me. 

“Nope. Nope nope nope. Not today, this is not…no.” I hurriedly gather up my clothes and shove my shoes on as I pull my t-shirt over my head, “I gotta go. I can’t be in here right now.”  

Y/N is looking at me with big eyes, a look of equal parts confusion and hurt on her face, “Did I do something wrong? I don’t understand…I thought that’s what you wanted? It’s not like that’s the first time…” 

I look at her, eyebrows raised, “First, when did something like that ever seem like something I’d want to do? And two, we’ve never done anything like that. Not even a little bit. You…I… this isn’t a thing. I wasn’t even here last night.” She looks like she’s about to cry, and I don’t want to leave her but I need air. “I’ll be back later.” I leave before she can answer and head toward where the Impala should be and stopping when I find the spot empty. Well, this isn’t good. I’m standing there looking around like an idiot when I catch my reflection in the window of the room I’m standing in front of. The first thing I notice is the shirt I’m wearing only reaches my belly button. As my eyes travel up, I realize that I’m also somehow taller than before. That’s when my eyes meet with my reflection’s, and I realize why I don’t remember coming back here.  

It’s because I’m not Dean, I’m Sam.  

_Son of a bitch_.

* * *

**Sam’s POV  
**

I have been woken up many ways over the years; gentle sunlight as shines in my eyes through dusty curtains, monsters punching me in the face, the soothing sounds of Asia over…and over…and over again (it stops being soothing after the hundredth day, I’ll tell you that right now). But if you had asked me how I thought I’d wake up this morning…my answer would not have been by a swift smack across the face from some blonde chick wearing a Zorro mask.  

The first thing I notice, other than the burning sting across my cheek, is that my arms seem to be stuck. I can’t say that it’s uncomfortable, whatever has my arms held out is soft and smooth against my wrists, but I also can’t remember why I would be in this position to start with. The last thing I remember is being with Y/N at the hotel. I’m not going to say we don’t like to try new things in the bedroom, but I’m definitely not into getting smacked around, and I am pretty sure Y/N isn’t either. I’m afraid to open my eyes for a couple of reasons: First, nothing has ever ended well in a situation where I found myself tied up. Second, it’s possible that Y/N and I had more to drink than I thought and I’m not so sure I’m ready to confront that. Especially since she just smacked me in the face.  

I slowly open my eyes, expecting to see Y/N standing in front of me, and instead see an incredibly tall blonde girl wearing….is she wearing a Zorro mask? I must have given her a weird look because she smiles awkwardly and holds out her hands in a ‘like what you see?’ gesture.  

I raise an eyebrow, “What…who are you?”  

She puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head, “It’s me, Becka.”  

Who the hell is Becka? “Right, Becka…whatcha doing?”  

“Well, I thought about what you said last night, about how we should embrace our wants even if they are a bit…unorthodox…and your request wasn’t too weird so I thought we could experiment with both.” Last night? I was most definitely not with this girl last night…was I? Shit, Y/N is gonna kill me.  

I clear my throat, “Can you…umm…remind me exactly what I wanted that was so unorthodox?”  

Becka settles in on the edge of the bed and pats my cheek, emphasizing each word with a little smack, “Getting smacked during sex by a girl wearing a Zorro mask.” Nope, that is not a thing I want. Why does that sound so familiar?  

“Okay…what was your thing?” She smiles and my gaze follows hers down. You’ve got to be freaking kidding me. I am completely naked except for a flimsy pair of pink women’s underwear, and allow me to just point out that they do not cover anything. I’m not even sure they could be considered an item of clothing. “You just put these on me, without me knowing?”  

She gives me an exasperated look, “Were you seriously that drunk? You put those on willingly, don’t you remember?” No, I don’t fucking remember. I’m tied to a bed wearing women’s underwear while being smacked around by Zorro, and to my recollection, none of it was my idea. I look down again as I tug at my restraints. Something is wrong. I can’t quite put my finger on what, but there is something more than just being in silky pink panties wrong with this whole picture.  

“Listen, Becky-” 

“Becka.” 

“Becka, I’m not sure how I ended up here, but I can guarantee I was not here last night. I was somewhere else, with a different woman. One that does not make me put on her underwear or smacks me in the face.”  I manage to get one wrist untied and start working on the other one, and Becka gets up and stomps across the room.  

“You certainly didn’t seem to mind putting them on last night! Here, take your stupid mask back!” She throws the Zorro mask at me just as I get my other wrist untied and it hits me in the face. I throw it in the floor and start searching for my clothes as she storms around the room collecting her things. “Typical, this is just typical! Find someone who’s in touch with their feminine side, someone that appreciates honesty and self confidence, and this is what happens. Such bullshit.”  

She storms toward the door and throws one last glare in my direction, “You can pay for this damn room too, asshole.” She slams the door shut and I’m left standing alone with my junk hanging out of some strange woman’s underwear. I know what my morning was supposed to have in store, and this is definitely not it. I still can’t find my clothes, and when I finally find a boot sticking out from under the bed…it isn’t my boot. What the hell? I look under the bed and find the other boot and my jeans. But they aren’t my jeans. These are Dean’s clothes. **What the hell**? I slowly make my way to the bathroom and flip on the light. Shit. 

 It isn’t just Dean’s clothes that were left in this room last night. So was Dean, and as I stare at what should be me but is actually my brother, I can feel panic begin to tighten in my gut. **What the _HELL_** happened last night?


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean meet up and try to figure out what to do. Meanwhile, Y/N still doesn't know what's going on.

**Dean’s POV**

_It’s because I’m not Dean, I’m Sam._

_Son of a bitch._

Coming from someone who has been to Hell _and_ Purgatory, there is nothing worse than waking up in your brother’s body. I’m standing here looking at my reflection like a freakin’ idiot, wearing clothes that are half mine and half Sam’s, and I have no idea how it happened. His hair…my hair…blows in my face, and I am already ready to shave my head. That thought gives me a little joy, but then I realize that long hair and doing something to piss off Sam is on the bottom of my priority list right now.

I should probably go back into the hotel room and tell Y/N what happened, that I’m not Sam…but I honestly…my brother is into Harry Potter role play, and I can’t deal with that right now. Not to mention she is currently half naked, and it doesn’t matter which Winchester I am, Little Winchester is a fan of that. Talk about awkward. And also, him and Y/N together?? Nope. One thing at a time, and none of those are things I want to deal with….ever. I reach into my pocket and thank God that Sam left his phone in his pants. I scroll through the phone looking for Sam’s name when it occurs to me that I’m going to have to call my phone, not his. Shit. I scroll back up and hit dial on my name.

It rings four times before I hear someone fumbling around as they answer it, “Sam?!”

_“Dean, what the hell?”_

“I could ask you the same thing…Longbottom.” There was silence on the other end of the line. “Where the hell are you?”

_“I’m in some dingy hotel room wearing women’s underwear, and by the way, I found your Zorro mask._ ” Son of a bitch. Now _I_ didn’t know what to say. There are things that as siblings, even as close as Sam and I are, you never need to know about each other.

“I have no good explanation for that. Is Baby with you?” I hear blinds rattle as Sam pushes them to the side.

“ _Yep, safe and sound. Where are you?_ ”

“Currently walking in your direction, away from the awkward situation I left in the room. You’re gonna have some ‘splainin’ to do, Lucy. Mostly to Y/N, but seriously man? What the hell?”

“ _Listen, I don’t have to explain what I like-_ ”

I grimace, the image of what he was getting ready to say, and in my voice which made it ten times worse, already burned into my brain, “Nope, don’t finish that sentence. I was referring to you and Y/N, but currently I think we have bigger problems. Stay where you are. And put some damn clothes on.” I hang up, then realize that I’m about to walk in on myself, which makes my head hurt. Maybe Sam will remember more of last night than I do. 

* * *

**Sam’s POV**

I hang up the phone and throw it on the bed. Well, Dean knows way more about my private life than I would have ever wanted him to know, but at least Y/N and I don’t have to sneak around anymore. Shit…Y/N. She thinks Dean is me…which means she is either going to be crying when I get back or really angry, and there’s also the possibility of both which is…well, it’s not good. I think about texting her but then realize it’s Dean’s phone and totally useless.

Pants. I need pants. I look towards the bathroom and find the jeans where I had dropped them when the phone rang, but where was the underwear…? I look around the room frantically, but there’s not any to be found. Dammit, Dean. I look down and realize it’s either pink women’s underwear or commando…and also realize at the same time that I’m staring at my brother’s dick. I rip off the pink, lacy thong, throw it as far from me as possible, and slip on the jeans. Commando it is. This day can’t possibly get any worse.

A fist pounding against the door interrupts my pity party. I drag myself over and throw it open to see myself staring back at me. This is bizarre.

“Dude, what the hell?!” Dean pushes past me and into the room. I shut the door and get a better look at him. Do I really look like that all time?

“Why….what’s wrong with your clothes?”

Dean narrowed his…my…eyes at me and frowned, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that I was grabbing the wrong clothes as I was running away from a very persistant Y/N.” Dean stares at me for a moment as he flips my long hair out of his face, then raises his eyebrows, “Care to explain that?”

I shrug, “Not much to explain. I guess we’re together.” Dean continues to look at me expectantly, and seeing his mannerisms on my face is a little disturbing, to be honest.

“You guess? You seem pretty together to me. You can’t get much more together than-”

“Okay, fine! We’re together…just…don’t finish that sentence.” Dean grins, and I know that nothing good can come from it.

“Wanna talk about the other thing, Neville? Baby brother, into some freaky shit.”

I roll my eyes, “I don’t know, do you want to talk about your penchant for getting slapped around by some girl in a Zorro mask? Or maybe you’d like to explain why you enjoy the feeling of silk on your-”

Dean grimaces and waves me off, “Nope, never mind, I regret starting that.”

“I was going to say, it’s certainly not my favorite way to wake up, yet here we are. Also, where the hell is your underwear?”

Dean shrugs, “Gotta let the boys breathe. If I ever get the chance to have a baby Winchester, gotta make sure my fellas are primed and ready to go.”

“You are disgusting.” I try to brush my hair out of my face but my hand meets nothing but air as I realize that I have Dean’s short hair, not mine. I sigh and sit down on the bed, “What are we going to do? Do you remember anything from last night that could possibly be of use?”

Dean shakes his head, “Nope. Not a thing…wait….Becka…I remember Becka,” he says with a grin.

“Great, well at least you have those memories. Super helpful, Dean.” I was being a dick, but honestly he isn’t  being super helpful and I just don’t care.

He crosses his arms and glares at me, “Well, what do you remember from last night? Or do you need a Remembrall to help out with that?” I glance up at him sharply. How the hell does he know this many Harry Potter references? I was wrong. This day could get worse.

“Shut up, Dean.”

Dean throws himself heavily onto the bed next to me and we sit in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. I can’t help but look at him from the corner of my eye. It is really weird to see myself not in a mirror, especially when my brother’s attitude is coming out of my mouth.

“Quit staring at me,” he snaps, and I look back towards the television, which isn’t even on.

“We have to figure out something. Maybe Y/N remembers what we did last night, and I need to explain to her what’s going anyway. We should head back to our motel.”

Dean nods, “That’s the first helpful thing you’ve said since I’ve been here.” He heads to the door and I glance down. I can feel a smile creep across my face as I bend down to pick up the piece of fabric that caught my eye.

“Hey Dean, you’re forgetting something.” I toss the Zorro mask at him and he catches it, a look between anger and amusement on his face. I’m pretty sure he contemplates tossing it away, but at the last second balls it up and shoves it in his pocket, then walks outside.

I pull my shirt on and see that Dean has already grabbed the Impala keys. I make it outside just in time to see him smack his head on the side of the car as he tries to sit down.

“Son of a bitch!”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I slid into the passenger side, the movement much easier now that I was three inches shorter. “Forget that you were taller?”

“Shut up.” Dean starts the car and pulls out of the lot and the only sound filling the car is the Led Zeppelin cassette that Dean had put in last night. “Think Y/N is going to be mad at you?”

I glance over at Dean and shrugs, “Depends on what you did this morning. Do you think she’s going to be mad at me?”

Dean laughs and my heart drops to my stomach, “Oh, yea. She’s gonna be _pissed_.”

We stay quiet the rest of the way to the motel, and I dread facing Y/N. None of this, to my knowledge, is my fault, so I don’t even know how to explain it. He pulls into the space in front of the room, and I stare at the door. I’m about to have a real bad time, and all Dean can do is grin about it. I sigh and finally climb out of the car. Dean makes it to the motel door first and finds it locked, and since neither of us thought to grab a key, he knocks. As soon as the door opens I can tell Y/N is about to go off. Before I can say anything, though, she slaps Dean hard across the face and my long hair sweeps across my…well…Dean’s…face. I have to admit, even while getting smacked, my hair looks _awesome_. Y/N’s glare moved from Dean to me as I try to choke back the laugh threatening to leave my mouth.

Well, this is going to go about how I expected.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader feels confusion about the boys' current predicament, and Dean becomes angry at their sudden realization.

**Dean’s POV**

I knock on the door once I realize that it’s locked and neither of us have our keys. Y/N is good at this kind of thing, and despite knowing what went down this morning, I honestly can’t see where she will still be upset. She’s smart, so I’m sure she’s realized that all was not normal this morning. The door flies open and I’m looking at Y/N’s red eyes, tear tracks still evident on her cheeks. Well, shit. Surely she doesn’t think Sam would-

*SMACK*

I have known that Y/N is a strong woman. Hell, I help train her, and yet this smack in the face literally makes me forget what is happening for a second. All I see is hair as Sam’s stupid mop flies in my eyes. His eyes. Our eyes. I don’t even know anymore. What I do know is that for a moment, a glorious hope filled moment, I think that maybe this smack is hard enough to knock everything back to normal. I hear Sam snort as he is obviously trying not to laugh, and Y/N shoots him a look, you know the kind, the ‘I swear to God if you even think about laughing out loud, I will make you wish you were dead’ kind that can curdle milk. He’s going to get me killed, so it’s probably time to let Y/N in on the situation. 

She looks back at me, “You _asshole_. You just leave, and then you come back here like nothing even happened?! Why do your clothes look like that? Where did you even go?”

I hold up my hands like I’m surrendering and _…are Sam’s nails manicured_? I’m actually going to punch him when we switch back, I swear to God. “Y/N, it’s not what you think. I’m not Sam.” She raises her hand up as if she’s going to smack me again and I cringe behind my arms, “I swear! I’m Dean! It’s not Sam, it’s Dean!”

She looks between me and Sam, her hand still raised, back and forth, back and forth. It’s like she’s playing tennis with her eyes; it’s enough to make a person dizzy. She slowly lowers her hand, but she’s still looking between the two of us. “I’m sorry, I should have told you right away, but I saw your boobs-”

“You WHAT?” Sam is glaring at me now, and I grimace.

“Listen, she was coming at me full tilt and that Hogwarts robe is not very good at concealing everything. Then she fell on top of me-”

“Are you fucking serious?”

I roll my eyes, “Sammy, get over it. She thought I was you. I mean, I can’t say it wasn’t enjoyable…” Sam starts to come toward me and I take a couple of steps back, “I didn’t know you guys were together! What was I supposed to do? I didn’t even realize I was you yet, you should tell a guy these things! Not my damn fault you two can’t keep it in your pants.”

Sam crosses his arms and glares at me, “You’re an ass.”

I nod, “So I’ve been told.” Y/N is looking at us like we’ve both grown a second head, and Sam steps toward her.

“Babe, listen, I’m so sorry. Neither one of us realized until we woke up this morning, and even then it took some awkward conversations to figure it out.” Man, it is weird to hear me say those words to Y/N. This is really not how I pictured my morning going. Y/N looks like she might actually believe us now, and she takes a step back to let us both inside.

I go to my bed and collapse. “Thank you, Jesus,” I sigh. Y/N is looking between Sam and I again, and I pinch the bridge of my nose, “What, Y/N?”

She’s looking at me weird, and it’s like she’s concentrating on what she wants to say. She takes a deep breath, “It’s just…I….you’re Sam. But you’re not Sam.” She looks back at Sam, “And I know that you are Sam, but…” She looks back at me, “I don’t actually know what to do here.”

I roll to my side and prop up on an elbow and she swallows nervously, “Use your grown up words, Y/N. What’s the problem?”

She blushes, starts to walk over to where Sam is sitting, then gives up and sits at the kitchenette table.

Sam frowns, “Why are you sitting over there?”

Y/N is picking at the hem of her shirt and mumbles something.

“What, I can’t hear you. Why aren’t you sitting with Sam?”

“You look like Sam, but Sam looks like you. I don’t…I can’t….can you please put clothes on that fit?” I look down and realize that the jeans are riding a little low since they’re Sam’s and I didn’t grab a belt, and the shirt is riding high, and to be honest, I’m a little embarrassed that I was walking around like this.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” I look around, “Sam, where is your bag? I need clothes.” Sam, still pouting on the bed, gestures towards where his bag is laying on the couch. “I’m changing, and then we are going to figure out what the hell happened to us last night.”

Y/N and Sam are both sitting in their respective seats, clearly moping because this whole thing is freaking weird, and how do you interact with your significant other when he looks like his brother? I mean, I can give them some pointers, but judging by the looks on their faces it probably will not be appreciated. “Just….figure your shit out, okay?”

I go into the bathroom and shut the door, then look in the mirror. Sam’s face stares back at me, and it’s bizarre. He could use a shave, we both probably could if we’re being honest, and he looks way more tired than I would have anticipated. Mr. Always Eating Healthy and Running isn’t as in shape as he likes to pretend. I look down at my…his abs. I stand corrected. I guess actually taking care of yourself has its perks. Oh well. I start pulling off my clothes and notice how many scars Sam actually has. I ignore it like I ignore most other serious problems we should probably pay attention to and pull on his clothes.

That’s a conversation for another day. Right now, we’ve got to figure out what the hell is going on and how we’re going to fix it.

* * *

**Sam’s POV**

The door closes behind Dean and I look at Y/N. She’s nervously chewing on her bottom lip, a sure sign that she’s thinking way too hard about something.

“Y/N?” Her eyes dart up to meet mine but immediately go back to where her hands are in her lap. “Y/N, look at me.”

She sighs then looks up at me, “What, De…Sam?”

“Are you okay?”

She shrugs, “Sure. This is just really….weird.” She goes back to looking at her hands, and I can tell there’s something else bothering her.

I walk over and kneel in front of her, “What’s wrong?”

She looks at me with wide eyes, and I see…guilt? “I tried to…I was going to do not very nice things to your brother…” I snort and she looks at me like I am crazy, “Why is that funny?”

I smile at her, but she’s still looking at me oddly, which is probably due to the fact that it’s Dean’s face getting closer to hers and not mine. I decide to keep going anyway because why not, “You thought that was me, you didn’t do anything wrong. Neither of you did. I mean, he could have handled that better, but you had no idea that you were hitting on Dean. How could you know?” She starts to smile and my smile grows wider, “See? No big deal.” I glance towards the bathroom and start laughing, “I bet his face was priceless…although it would have been my face…so maybe it wouldn’t have been as funny.”

She nods, “Now that I know what’s going on, it was pretty funny.” I close the gap between us and kiss her, and even though it feels a little different than normal, Y/N has apparently forgotten that I don’t look like myself.

“Oh, _come on_.” We pull apart and Dean is glaring at us from the bathroom door, “That is just bizarre. Stop it.”

I laugh as I stand up and move back towards my bed, and Y/N winks at me, “You might look like your brother, but you still kiss like Sam.”

Dean gags, “I hate both of you.” He sits back down on his bed and leans his elbows on his knees, “So, do either of you remember what happened? Because I sure as hell don’t.”

I shake my head, “Nope, not a thing. I vaguely remember being here, but not how I got here or anything after that.” I look at Y/N, “What about you?”

“Well, we ate at that diner, which is where Dean found that girl, and then we ended up going to that bar down the street. The waitress got off-”

Dean chuckles, “Yea, she did.”

Y/N glares at Dean, “Shut up. The waitress got off work right as we were leaving to go to the bar, and she tagged along with us. We all proceeded to get pretty toasted. Dean, you left with the girl, and then we ended up coming back here.”

Dean rubs a hand across his face in agitation, “That’s it? Nothing in between that would have provoked…” he gestures wildly between the two of us, “…this?”

Y/N shakes her head, “No, nothing that I can remember. Unless something happened when the two of you went off on your own.”

All three of us are quiet as we all try to remember. Suddenly, Y/N’s eyes grow wide, and her hand flies to her mouth as she gasps. “There was a guy…he was sitting just down the bar from us.”

Dean sits on the edge of the bed and stares at Y/N, “What? What did he do?”

She shakes her head slowly, “That’s just it, I didn’t think he did anything. But he was there the entire time…and…I think he may have sent some drinks over. I didn’t actually see him do it, but I’m pretty sure he was watching us the whole time.”

“Did he look familiar?” I ask gently. I don’t want to interrupt her train of thought.

“Not really, at least not his face. But his eyes…”

“C’mon, what about them?” She looks between me and Dean, and I can already tell I’m not going to like the answer.

“They were almost gold…like, if you were to take a glass of whiskey and shine a light through it. They looked like-”

“ _Gabriel_ ,” Dean and I both say in unison.

Dean stands up and punches the wall, “Son of a bitch!”


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys realize that Gabriel is behind the swap, and they find that the answer is closer than they thought.

**Dean’s POV**

“Shit,” I mumble as I shake out my hand. “Gabriel?! Seriously?! He was dead, right? We saw him die.”

Sam just looks at me and shrugs, “I mean, he is an archangel, Dean, it stands to reason that it wouldn’t be that easy to kill him.”

I sit back down on the bed and run a hand through my hair. I swear to God, just five minutes with a set of clippers…

“Lucifer killed him, Sam! _Lucifer_. How do you get out of that? There’s not really a ‘get out of jail free’ card when you’ve been killed by the actual devil.”

“Maybe angel blades can’t kill an archangel,” Y/N interjects. “That’s what Lucifer used, right? We know they’re one of the only things that can kill an angel, but how we do know it’s powerful enough to take down an archangel?”

Sam and I both look over at her. Sammy’s got his work cut out for him with this one. Sam nods and tries to run his hand through his hair, then grumbles in frustration when he realizes he still has my short hair. “Okay, so say that is the case…say that an angel blade can’t kill an archangel…where has he been this whole time? And why the hell is he messing with us now?”

I sigh, “Well, he did this before. We thought we killed him when he was the trickster, and the sneaky son of a bitch stayed hidden until he decided to kill me over and over again. I haven’t been able to watch Groundhog Day since.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “You don’t even remember it! I was the one that had to deal with it.”

I look at Sam with wide eyes, “Sometimes I get a weird craving for a Pig in a Poke. Explain that.”

“Dean, I swear to God-”

Y/N throws her hands up, clearly irate. “Both of you, stop it! I don’t know much about Gabriel, but I’m assuming this is his M.O., right? Get you to argue with each other? Because it’s working, and now I’m getting annoyed. So back on track. Why would he do this and what do we do?”

I sit down at the table and lean back in the chair, “Well, the last time he pulled this kind of shit, he was trying to teach us a lesson. So, what have we done lately that we would need to be taught a lesson for?” We all sit in silence as we try to think about what it could be. “You back into the demon blood, Sammy? Maybe he’s trying to show us some sort of secrets we’re hiding from each other, huh?”

Sam scowls at me, “No! And the only secret I’ve learned about you is your preference for women’s lingerie.” He shifts uncomfortably, “And your apparent habit of going commando.”

I grin back at him, “Alright, never mind, Potter.” Making Sammy squirm is one of my favorite things, so if nothing else good comes from this, at least I’ll have that. “It has to be something that deals with the two of us, because Y/N is fine. He would have definitely cursed all three of us if she was in on it.” It then occurs to me how lucky we are that Y/N is not involved, and judging by the looks on Y/N and Sam’s…well, my face…they are also realizing just how bad this morning could have been. At this point, I’m not ruling out that it could get worse. I’ve made that mistake before, it’s not happening again.

“Okay.” Sam stands up and starts pacing back and forth. Are my legs really that bowlegged? I look like a cowboy that’s ridden the bull one too many times. How does that even happen? I would be like three inches taller if-

“Dean!”

I look up and see Sam glaring at me. I have to say, I look pretty damn good when I glare like that. I think I’ll call that one the smolder.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Actually, no. What did you say?” I smile politely at him and try to focus. It’s really weird to see myself walking around, and now that I can, I’m picking apart everything. I mean, most of it’s good, but still. It’s distracting.

Sam sighs, “I said, we need to go back to where this started. We need to go back to the bar and see if we can find anything out. Maybe we did something last night that caused this, maybe someone saw something.”

I stand and stretch, and Sam’s hair falls in my face yet again. “Dammit! Okay, well, I don’t know how much good going to the bar is going to do, but I’m not going anywhere until I get this hair out of my face.” I storm into the bathroom and begin digging through Y/N’s makeup bag.

I hear Sam scramble off the bed, “Don’t you dare-”

“Relax, I’m not going to cut it.” I dig around some more and cheer when I finally find what I’m looking for. I gather as much of his hair up as I can and wrap the band I found around it. There are a few loose strands, but it is far better than having all of his hair in my face. I walk out of the bathroom and Sam groans.

“Are you serious? Did you seriously pull my hair back into a…a man bun?”

I shrug, “It’s this or I take the clippers to it. Your choice.” Sam slumps in defeat, but Y/N is looking at me with her mouth hanging open. I smirk, “Looks like someone is enjoying it.” Y/N snaps her mouth shut just as Sam jerks around to look at her, and I chuckle. “Alright, come on. Let’s see if they’re open yet, find out if they noticed anything weird going on.” I grab the Impala keys off the table and go outside. I open the door, but pause for a moment as I try to remember how my height relates to the car now. I slowly ease myself into the driver seat and manage to avoid cracking my head against the side of the car. I smile to myself. Nailed it. 

* * *

**Sam’s POV**

I know I’m pouting, but Dean pulling my hair back like that is driving me absolutely insane. It wouldn’t even bother me that much except that Y/N apparently _really_ enjoys the new look, and I feel…jealous? I’m jealous of myself. How does that even work? I keep shooting glares at Dean, but he just smiles and ignores it, the arrogant asshole. I guess it’s better than him shaving my head. I look back out the window and watch the storefronts pass as I try to remember what happened last night. Bits and pieces are sneaking back, but nothing is standing out.

Dean pulls up in front of the bar and parks, and we all sit and stare at the front door. It appears to be open for lunch, and the front windows are cranked open to let the fresh air in. It’s a nice place, which for some reason surprises me. It’s not like we usually frequent nice, sit down places. We climb out of the car, and before I can get to Y/N she’s grabbing Dean’s hand, my hand, and he looks at her in surprise. He pulls back from her when he sees the look on my face, and she looks at me sheepishly.

“Sorry, Sam. It’s just hard to remember that’s not you.” She reaches for me, and for a moment I contemplate not grabbing her hand, but as soon as I look in her eyes, I break. It’s not her fault. I take her hand and we both walk into the bar behind Dean.

Dean looks over his shoulder and frowns, “You guys are killing me.”

I shrug, “It’s either this or she walks around holding your hand, and that’s going to happen over my dead body.”

Dean nods, “Fair point. But maybe cut it out while we’re in here. People obviously saw us in here last night, which means she was all over you, and now she’s all over me. I mean, some people are into that kind of thing, but I don’t think it’s going to be very helpful in this situation.”

I reluctantly let go of Y/N’s hand. I guess it’s back to both of us pouting. Dean perches on one of the stools and waves down the bartender.

“What can I get for ya?”

Dean gestures vaguely at me and Y/N, “We were in here last night and something…weird happened. We were wondering if maybe anyone saw anything. Did you work last night?”

The bartender raises an eyebrow as he swirls a dishtowel around the glass he is holding, “Listen man, what happens when you people leave this bar is not my problem. None of you were at the point where I needed to cut you off, so whatever happened after here… Not my fault.”

Dean looks back at me and Y/N and grimaces, then looks back at the bartender. “No, no, gross, not that. Just…okay, so you were here last night?” The bartender nods but doesn’t say anything, so Dean continues. “Great. Did anyone else come in around the same time or leave around the same time as us?”

The bartender rolls his eyes, and I can see Dean clench his jaw. Why do I have a feeling this isn’t going to end well? “Dude, do you even know how many people come and go at this place on a Friday night? I only remember you guys because you’re the size of a freakin’ giraffe. And you were practically eating that chick’s face.” He nods over to Y/N, and I can see Dean clench his fists.

“Listen, here-” Dean snarls, but Y/N pushes past me and slides up next to him. She puts a hand on Dean’s arm and a wave of jealousy sweeps over me again. This is ridiculous. She looks at the bartender and smiles.

“Sorry if we’re being a little pushy, but someone stole something from us and we’re trying to get it back. The person we’re looking for was normal looking, you probably wouldn’t even notice him to be honest. He fits in, but his eyes…his eyes are like warm honey, or maybe a glass of whiskey.” She leans against the counter and crosses her arms, and I can tell from here what she’s doing. Let’s just add another layer of jealousy to this, shall we? I don’t know where it’s coming from, maybe it’s because I can’t touch her with my own hands, or maybe it’s the accidental touches between her and Dean because she keeps forgetting it’s not me. Right now I just want to punch the bartender in the face for the little show she’s putting on, which isn’t fair. But you know what else isn’t fair? Being trapped in my brother’s meat suit and watching my girl flirt with the bartender to get information.

The bartender sits the glass down on the counter, his full attention on Y/N. “That somewhat rings a bell…”

Y/N leans forward, “He would have been sitting right around…here.” She slides her hand lazily across the bar next to her and pats the worn wood. “Probably was here for a few hours and drank the sweetest drinks you had.”

It looks like a lightbulb goes off in the bartender’s head, and I roll my eyes. The magic of a woman’s touch, I guess. He nods, “Yea, yea! I thought that was weird. He looked like the type to throw back some scotch, but he was all about the fruity drinks. I noticed he kept pulling candy out of his pocket, too, which…I mean, that’s freakin’ weird, but to each their own, you know?”

I can’t see Y/N’s face from this angle, but I know she’s smiling. I have to give it to her, the girl is good. As much as I hate seeing her do it, I know that Dean and I have used the same tactic, so I can’t say a damn word. It still sucks, but…a hunter has to do what a hunter has to do.

“Fantastic. Did he say anything to you? Did you see where he went?”

The bartender shakes his head, “Not really. He did order a few drinks and had them delivered to….” His eyes widen as he realizes that we were the ones the drinks were sent to. “Oh my God, he roofied you.”

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault-”

“The fuck it’s not!” Dean interrupts, glaring at the bartender enough to make him back up a couple steps.

Y/N puts her hand against Dean’s chest and pushes him back slightly, then looks back at the bartender and gives him a gentle smile. “It’s really okay. Do you remember anything else?”

The bartender shakes his head, but then pauses for a moment as if he’s thinking. “Actually…” He rummages in his pocket and pulls out a business card, “He left this for me with the tip. I’m not sure why, he didn’t say much, but I kept it. He was a good tipper.” He hands it to Y/N, and she gives him one last smile.

“Thank you so much. We appreciate it.” She turns around and motions for both of us to follow her. Dean lingers for a moment and glares at the bartender, then follows me through the front door. Y/N is standing next to the Impala, her eyes wide as she looks at the card. “You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.”

Dean holds his hand out for the card, “What?” Lemme see.” When Y/N doesn’t move, he snatches the card out of her hand and stares at it. “Well, holy shit.”

Now it was my turn to snatch the card from Dean. I look down at the card and have to read it three times before I can understand what it says.

_The Greenwood Hotel_  
Room 35  
All you can eat kielbasa

Dean looks back up at me, “It’s definitely Gabriel…and he’s staying at the same damn hotel we are.”

“Dean, it’s not just the same hotel. We’re in Room 34.”


	5. Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is unhappy with the instructions Gabe left behind, and Dean realizes he's in trouble.

**Sam’s POV**

Dean slams the Impala into park, storms out of the car, and towards the room next to us.

“Dude, wait, you don’t know who’s in there!” I call after him and he actually pauses for once, although the look he gives me could wilt lettuce.

“It’s just Gabriel, what’s he going to do?” he asks me, irritation making his voice sharp.

I manage to calmly shut the car door, but I can’t help but gesture wildly between us, “Umm…seriously? That’s a question that you’re asking right now?”

He opens his mouth to respond, then snaps it shut. For once, he’s speechless. I should probably mark this on a calendar. Y/N comes up between us, and I can’t help but have a hard time looking at her. She’s still keeping her eyes mostly on Dean, and it’s driving me nuts. I get that she’s technically looking at me, but come on.

“C’mon, boys, let’s just go inside and see what he’s wanting. There’s always something with him, right? He’s got a purpose, we just have to figure out what it is.” Y/N looks between us with wide eyes, and I can’t help but give in.

“Yea, you’re right…let’s just go inside.” I reach out and grab the knob, then twist it experimentally. Surprisingly, it’s unlocked and the door swings open, revealing a clean but empty room. The TV is on, and laying on the bed with a note taped to it is a DVD case. “Great,” I mumble. “The last time he left us a DVD, it was porn.”

Dean picks it up, then rolls his eyes and tosses it to me, “It’s still porn. Maybe there will be less kielbasa and more tacos this time.”

I groan, and though Dean was the one that said it, the words leaving my mouth make me cringe, “Stop being so crass.” I pop the disc out of the case and slip it into the player. I look over at Y/N, “You might want to prepare yourself. Gabriel’s sense of humor is…well, it’s like Dean’s but worse.”

Dean glares at me, “What’s wrong with my sense of humor? I am hilarious; an absolute treasure to be around.”

I roll my eyes and hit play. The cheesiest porn music I’ve ever heard begins to play and I glance over at Dean, who’s grinning like a kid in a candy store. Like I said, their sense of humor is very similar. A girl appears in the frame, scantily clad as she walks towards the bathroom with a towel when she hears a knock and walks over to the door. She throws it open, and there stands Gabriel, a stack of towels in hand.

“Oh, hello. I heard someone was…wet,” he looks at the camera and winks then looks back to the girl, “and they needed help drying off.”

The girl giggles and waves Gabriel into the room, then shuts the door behind him. He snaps his fingers, pausing the girl as she turned towards him, then looks back at the camera.

“Hey, Losechesters, I see you found my little gift. Took you long enough, I would have thought you’d want out of each other faster than this.” He laughs and puts his hands on his hips, “Ohhhh, the fanfiction people would write about _that_. Ol’ Chuckles would blush, that’s for damn sure.” He sits the towels down on the bed, then hops onto the kitchenette table and crosses his legs.

“You’re probably wondering why you woke up looking at each other’s ding dongs instead of your own. Well, the answer is simple; I like fuckin’ with you. And since I’ve been ‘dead’,” he air quotes as he rolls his eyes, “I haven’t had much chance to do that. So here’s the sitch, as it were. I need something from you, and the only way you’re gonna find out what it is is if you follow my directions exactly. Once you’ve done it, I’ll switch you back, bingo bango. Sasquatch, go over to the nightstand and open the second drawer.” Dean looks at me in confusion; technically, he’s Sasquatch. I hear Gabriel clear his throat and realize he must have anticipated this.

“The real Sasquatch, dumb asses. Go on, go to the drawer.” I slowly move towards the nightstand and gingerly put my hand on the knob. Knowing Gabe, this could have anything inside of it. I cringe as I slide the drawer open and breathe a sigh of relief when the only thing I find is a manilla envelope. I pull it out, then look back at the television. Gabriel is whistling and looking at his watch. After a moment, he continues,” Alright, I’m assuming you’ve picked up the envelope and aren’t just standing there looking at it like a dope. Open it, and then read what you found to the class.”

I gently pull the sheet out of paper out of the envelope, and glance over it before I look at Y/N and Dean with wide eyes. “No, absolutely not. This is ridiculous.”

“I’m guessing by now, little Sammy is looking rather ill, so let me lay it out for ya. Dean, you and Y/N are to go on a little…scavenger hunt. You have to follow the instructions I’ve so lovingly laid out for you, and each place you stop will have an additional…umm…request. You won’t know what the request is until you get there. You’ve gotta do all of it, you can’t skip or cheat, or you’re going to find yourself learning how to get around in the wrong body.”

Gabe hops down from the table and towards the still frozen girl, then turns back to the camera just as reaches her, “Before you decide that you can find a loophole, that will also void this deal. And when I say Dean, I mean actual Dean. Now,” he snaps his fingers and the girl turns to face him, her arm snaking around his neck as she presses her nearly naked body against him, “I’ve got to make sure this pretty lady has an excuse to use all these extra towels.” He picks her up and tosses her on the bed, which Dean suddenly realizes is the one he’s sitting on and jumps up.

“Seriously? This is the second time!” He stops the DVD, then looks back at me. “What do we have to do?”

I look back down at the list, an ache in my chest as I realize what Gabe is doing. I’m not sure why he’s doing it or what purpose it’s supposed to serve, but whatever it is…it’s working. I clear my throat, the tightness there threatening to give away how I’m really feeling, and hand Dean the sheet of paper.

“I think he wants you to go on a date.”

* * *

**Dean’s POV**

“This is stupid.”

I look over at Y/N and she’s frowning, her eyebrows knit together in this cute little pout she gets sometimes. I poke at her with my elbow, “You’ve always wanted to go on a date with me.” I wiggle my eyebrows and she groans.

“Need I remind you about the time we actually went on a date?” she mumbles, and it’s almost too quiet for me to hear.

I feel what I am hoping is a boyish grin melt off my face. I remember. I look back down at the paper in my hand, then back up at the street we’re currently walking down. “This says that once we hit the corner of First and Main we have to start holding hands, then cross the street and head east.” I stop when we reach the corner, “I guess this is where it starts.” I hold my hand…Sammy’s hand…out to her. She stares at it for a moment, then grabs it. For a second, I forget she’s not holding my hand but my brother’s and it feels…it feels nice.

“Gabriel must know. That’s why he’s making us do this. We should have told Sam.” She’s practically dragging me across the street, and I realize how much she must hate this. It’s Sam, but it’s not. I wonder how different I feel to her.

“Why would it matter? It was years ago, before Sam even met you. Hell, we didn’t even remember at first. How was I supposed to know some dickhead angel was going to pull this shit?”

She stops and puts her free hand on her hip, “Don’t. We knew the moment we ran into each other at that hunt in Austin. You don’t just forget something like…like _that_.” She blushes and looks away and although I shouldn’t, I feel a little pride. She clears her throat, “What’s it say to do next?”

“It says to ‘go east for….five hundred feet, then turn right. There will be a bar there with our name on it. Go to the bar and ask for Fergus.’ What the hell does that mean, ‘has our name on it?’ And Fergus? What the actual hell?”

Y/N snorts, “Funny choice of words you’ve got there.”

I roll my eyes, “Shut up.” I fold the paper one handed and shove it in my pocket. We walk what I think is five hundred feet, then look to my right and groan. “I guess that’s what he meant.”

The bar is called The Winchester.

“Fantastic. Let’s hurry up and find this Fergus so we can get this over with.” Y/N pulls me inside and I lean against the counter as we wait for the bartender to notice us. She looks at me from the corner of her eye, “Still, we should have told him. Because if he finds out now, it’s going to end badly and you know it.”

She’s not wrong. Our date had been more than a date, and had Dad not disappeared…well, there’s no point in thinking about it. It had only been one night, and we’d only recently met back up with her. There had been no reason to tell Sam, and there still isn’t.

“Listen, we just won’t tell him. It just said we had to follow the instructions, nowhere did it say we had to give Sam details. Before was a one time deal that I’m sure neither of us thought about again, right?” I’m lying. I have thought about it plenty, and I am ashamed to say that this morning had brought it all rushing back.

“I guess you’re right.” She waves and gets the bartender’s attention, “Excuse me, we are looking for Fergus?”

“That would be me, darlin’. What can I do for ya?”

“We were told there would be some instructions left here for us.” She glances at me quickly, then back to him, “Are we in the right spot?”

He nods, then slips a hand under the bar, “Aye, ya are. Some bloke came in here, trailing candy wrappers like it’s his own goddamn house, and told me to give ya this. Says a sasquatch and a good lookin’ y/h/c would be lookin’ for it.”

He holds out a folded piece of paper and I yank it from his hand, “Thanks, we appreciate it.” I unfold it, and though the instructions are clear, I’m confused. Taped to the bottom of the note is a quarter.

> **_It’s time to take a trip. Use this quarter at the jukebox, and without looking at the name, choose song D26. You’ll know what to do when it starts to play._ **

“What the fuck?” I grumble. I don’t like where this is going.

“What, what is it?” Y/N grabs the note and reads it. “Okay, let’s just do it then. Come on.” She walks over to  the jukebox and puts the quarter in, punches the buttons, and makes her way back to me through the crowd. Until the song starts to play.

> _When I look into your eyes_  
>  I can see a love restrained  
>  But darlin’ when I hold you  
>  Don’t you know I feel the same

Y/N freezes in place as realization sweeps over both of us. Any doubts that Gabe knew about our one time thing was gone. It is glaringly obvious what he wants us to do next, and despite wanting to forget about this whole thing, I make myself walk to her.

“He wants us to dance, Y/N.” She looks at me with wide eyes, her mouth parted as if she wants to say something, but instead silently nods. She puts her arms around my neck, and I slip my hands to her waist. It feels right and wrong at the same time.

> _‘Cause nothin’ lasts forever_  
>  And we both know hearts can change  
>  And it’s hard to hold a candle  
>  In the cold November rain

“Why is he doing this?” she whispers. I can see how torn she is; physically, I’m Sam. Despite how I look, however, my mannerisms and the way I’ve been carrying myself…it’s all me. Over a decade ago, we danced to this very song…and that dance had led to something else entirely.

“I don’t know. The last time he pulled something like this, he wanted us to play our parts, say yes to being vessels. I don’t know what he wants now…hell, we’ve thought he was dead for years. I have no idea what he stands to gain by making us do this.” One thing is certain, Sam is going to be hurt. I don’t know why, or if that’s even his plan, but if this is how this little game is starting, I am not looking forward to whatever else he has in mind. 

> _But lovers always come and lovers always go  
>  And no one’s really sure who’s lettin’ go today  
>  Walking away_

We’re silent for a moment as we sway back and forth, trying our best to keep space between us. Y/N is the first to break the silence.

“Why did you leave, anyway? We did that case together, and then that night…I thought we’d stick together. You just…disappeared.”

I sigh, not wanting to have this conversation. I think carefully about my response. “Dad disappeared and I had to get Sammy. So much happened after that, I just figured we both needed to move on. I guess I didn’t handle it very well. I was dumb.” I’m still dumb, if the way my heart is racing is any indication of bad decisions I’m contemplating about making.

“Yea…you were.” She’s refusing to look me in the eye and I can’t say I blame her. This sucks for me, but I would imagine looking at your boyfriend while talking about banging his brother is less than fantastic.

“Do you love him?” It’s out of my mouth before I can stop myself. Point number two for how incredibly stupid I still am.

She looks at me sharply, “Of course I do. More than anything.” She sighs, “More than most,” she amends, this time avoiding eye contact. Looks like I’m not the only dumb one.

“Then let’s get this fixed so he’s actually the one holding onto you, alright? It can’t get much worse than this, right?” She smiles and I feel a little better about our unspoken confessions. “Why don’t you get us a drink, and I’ll take a look at the next step?” She nods and wanders over to the bar.

> _Don’t ya think that you need somebody_  
>  Don’t ya think that you need someone  
>  Everybody needs somebody  
>  You’re not the only one  
>  You’re not the only one

Damn it.


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets a taste of what he was afraid of and Dean has to make a difficult decision.

**Sam**

It’s been an hour, and they still aren’t back. I know I shouldn’t worry, it’s stupid, but I look down at the note in my hand and it feels like there is a boulder on my chest. The fact that the hand holding the paper isn’t _my_ hand isn’t helping, and I crumple up the note and throw it. I sit on the bed to keep from pacing, but my knee starts bouncing instead, which isn’t much better.

I shouldn’t worry, because it’s Dean and Y/N. It’s my brother and my girl, and neither of them would do anything on purpose to hurt me. Gabriel…well, _he_ would, because he’s an ass. I sigh and run a hand through my short hair. Another reminder that there is a reason Dean and Y/N are playing along with Gabe’s stupid requests. He isn’t bluffing, and I know it.

Here’s the thing that worries me the most about this; it seems so easy for her to play along. I know that she’s looking at me technically, but it’s not me, and she knows that. It’s Dean’s personality inside of my body, and it seems like she’s perfectly fine with that. They’re best friends, they have been since she joined up with us, but it seems like maybe this switch is just a little too convenient…. What am I even saying? I have to get out of this room, I’m going crazy. I grab my jacket and slam the door shut behind me. After I get my bearings, I head towards the main drag and shove my hands in my pockets.

Every girl that walks by looks like Y/N. Every single one that looks my way and smiles is her, and all I can think about is how small she is, perfectly shaped to fit into my side, her tiny hand even smaller when it’s in mine. How warm she is, how her hair always seems to be a perfect mess. Since Jess, I’ve never really given much thought to getting married, our lives make it seem like a stupid notion, but Y/N…hell, I’d do anything for her. As I walk, I think about the past day and a half and what Gabriel wants. I honestly can’t think of any reason why, and that’s more frustrating than anything. What in the hell could he possibly want?

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I stop walking. I pull it out and for a second and stare at the back of it like it’s a foreign object that I don’t know what to do with. I’m afraid of what I’ll hear or see, but finally my curiosity is too much. I flip it over and see that it’s a text message from an unknown number. I look around, but don’t see anyone suspicious. I slide my thumb across the screen and it unlocks to show me a message with only a single line; a link that simply says _Watch me_. My thumb hovers over it, and I take a deep breath. Do I really want to watch whatever this is? Will there be a consequence to this fucked up game if I don’t? Three little dots pop up, and I wait anxiously while the person who sent it types.

_You gotta play the game._

I look around again; someone has to be watching me. Another glance reveals nothing, so I move over to a nearby bench and sit down. Reluctantly, I press the link and am taken to another screen. It looks like a video feed, though it’s not great quality. I turn my phone so that the image expands and I see what looks like two people walking through a park. The picture is jumping to different angles, like it’s traveling along security cameras as the couple walks hand in hand down the sidewalk. They eventually make it to the end of the walkway, which expands into a large overlook. They stop just under a large tree and the man leans against it, letting go of the girl’s hand so that he can look at whatever he’s holding. He looks up to say something and that’s when I realize I’m looking at myself.

Well, I’m looking at _Dean_ , and I can feel my heart catch in my throat. They were holding hands… _Why_ were they holding hands? The picture is too far away for me to be able to read his lips but Y/N takes a step closer to him and he shrugs, looking around as if he’s trying to decide if there’s anything to do, any further instructions waiting for him. She puts her hand on his arm and he shakes his head, and _God_ I have never in my life needed to hear what someone is saying like I do right now.

They’re interrupted by a jogger, who stops next to Dean and leans in close to his ear. He pulls back, surprised by whatever they’ve just said, but they run off before he says anything else. He stays where he is for a moment, honestly it’s probably one of the longest moments of my life, and then he steps towards Y/N.

It’s like everything is in slow motion as his hand moves to her hip and pulls her into him. I expect her to look surprised, or fight it, or at least hesitate, but…she doesn’t. He’s leaning down, his lips are almost on hers, and _she doesn’t move_. Right before their lips connect, the video feed goes dark. I throw my phone and it shatters against the brick building in front of me. An older man gives me a disapproving frown and makes a show of walking further away from me than is necessary. I drop my head into my hands and try to ignore how sick I feel, the burning anger that is just under the surface.

_I was right._

* * *

**Dean**

I’m starting to get used to Y/N’s hand in mine, and I know that’s going to be a problem later. For now, though, I’m going to just let it happen. Technically, I _have_ to just let it happen, but I ain’t complaining.

“I wonder what Sam is doing.” Y/N says quietly. I look down at her, and she’s worrying her bottom lip despite how tightly she’s holding my hand. I feel bad for her; this isn’t easy, and I sure as hell am not making it easier. Truth be told, I’m somewhat enjoying this, and although it’s not _me_ forcing her into this mess, I’m certainly not fighting it. But that’s the thing; if either of us fight it, Sam and me…well, we’re stuck like this. There’s no choice.

“Probaby pacing a lot. Hell, he’s probably already worn a hole in the carpet. Either that, or he’s already left the room to take a walk. He’ll be alright.”

We make it to the end of the sidewalk where it turns into a sprawling overlook, with benches and fancy paving stones. The sun is starting to go down, and if this were any other time, with any other girl, it would be a perfect date spot. I reluctantly let go of her hand and glance at her from the corner of my eye as I unfold the note I got at the bar.

Well…any other _time_ , anyway.

I clear my throat, “It says to stop here and wait.” I look around, but don’t see anything that could be used as a clue.

“I’m worried about what Gabe’s got planned. It just seems like it’s escalating.”

I shrug and try my best to avoid looking at her, “Eh, who knows. It’s Gabriel; it’s usually good, clean fun. Well, for a trickster, anyway. I don’t think he’s going to do anything too crazy. He’s a douche, not a heartless asshole.” I’m not sure I totally believe that, considering the first time we met him he was killing people for sport, but it’s something to hold on to. I look around again, but there’s nothing. No hint as to what he wants us to do, and now I _do_ begin to worry, because what if she’s right? What if this just keeps escalating, and I have to do something I can’t take back? I feel her hand on my arm and I look down at her. She looks concerned, but she smiles anyway.

“You’re probably right, it’s…it’s gonna be fine, right? We do what he says, and then you guys get switched back. Everything is back to normal.”

I stare at her for a moment, how the light is reflecting in her hair, and how perfect her jawline is, and how her hand feels on my arm and realize that, no matter how this turns out, it’s not going back to normal. At least not for me. I shake my head, “Y/N, listen-”

Footsteps rapidly approaching cut me off, and I turn to see a jogger stop directly behind me. He leans in close and I pull back slightly, uncomfortable with his sudden proximity to my face. He pulls me back into him and begins to whisper in my ear.

And that’s when my heart drops into my stomach.

Because what he’s asking, I can’t do. I _shouldn’t_ do. It’s the one thing that I’ve been thinking about since this fucking trainwreck started, and I know it’s wrong. I had my shot with her, I _had_ it and I _lost_ it, and nothing about this is right.

But then he jogs away, and she tilts her head and I realize she didn’t hear a word he said. I could lie and we could just risk it, see if Gabe really means it when he says if we break the rules we’re stuck like this.

I _could_ do that.

Or I could take this one last opportunity to feel what I felt all those years ago. Yea, I’m an asshole, and I get that. I get that this is Sam’s girl, not mine. But there’s a little selfish part of me screaming _“She was mine first!”_ and I’m having trouble ignoring it. And is it worth the risk, anyway? I know what Gabe’s done before, and for all of my ‘oh he’s just messing with us’ attitude, I’m also terrified that he’s not just kidding around. Hell, he killed me and kept me dead for six months before he finally brought me back, just to prove a point.

So when she looks at me and tilts her head like that, her brows raised and her lips parted _just_ enough, whatever resolve I have left is gone. Without saying anything, I take a step forward and put my hands on her waist. I pull her towards me like it’s normal, and she doesn’t resist. A part of me realizes it’s because I look like Sam, and though I feel a twinge of jealousy with that, another part of me knows that _she_ knows, and is okay with both. I pause as I look down at her, reading the question in her eyes, and I wonder if I should go through with it. Play the game and risk it all, or don’t play the game and still somehow risk everything. It doesn’t really seem all that fair.

She huffs, a tiny, confused breath of air, and that’s it. That’s what does it. I’m going to hell either way with this one. I lean down and kiss her, and it’s weird because I don’t really know what to do with my face…well, _Sam’s_ face. It’s the same but different, and I wonder if she notices. The one familiar thing, though? How soft her lips are, how she moves against me, her arms as they loop around my neck. I finally force myself to pull away and lean my forehead against hers.

“Dean…”

I look at her, and her eyes are wide and I can see the regret in them. It’s mixed with something else, but if she’s as confused as I am right now, it’s no wonder. I hate that I’m enjoying this, that I honestly would give anything to have her back. I hate Gabriel, I hate that I can’t fucking function when it comes to emotion, and I hate how I hate myself. This wouldn’t even be an issue if I didn’t feel like I had to put everything else in front of my well being, my feelings. I stare at her, and her regret hurts, but it’s understandable. There’s a flash of something recognizable, something from our time together years ago, but it can’t last. We both know it.

I take a step back and clear my throat, “Well, that’s it. The dude said after we did that, uh, we can go back to the hotel and wait for further instructions. We just have to hold hands on the way back.” I cringe inwardly at that; the jogger didn’t say anything about holding hands, but the asshole part of me is wanting to drag this out a little bit longer. And hand holding is innocent, right?

_Right._

She nods and holds out her hand, and we start walking back in the direction that we came. The sun is almost down and, for a second, everything feels normal, like this is what we’re meant to do. She squeezes my hand, and my heart jumps into my throat.

_Almost_ normal. 

* * *


	7. Part 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean come to blows, and Dean's following decision might change everything.

**Sam**

_They kissed_. 

No matter what else I try to focus on, all I can see is that last image, Dean leaning in, and her letting him. I didn’t see the actual kiss, it could have been a quick peck on the lips, but I saw how they were standing; closer than two people should who were just playing along with some kind of twisted game. 

I’m tired of pacing, I’m tired of feeling all this rage with no where for it go. I sit down, but just like before, it doesn’t help. I jump back up just as the door opens, and I spin to face it. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to seeing my face staring back at me. 

“What the hell happened out there?!”

Y/N takes a step back from me, and for a brief moment it occurs to me that they have no idea that I saw. I’m scaring her, and I feel bad. But then the image pops into my head again, and I clench my fists at my sides. 

“Gabriel sent us on a scavenger hunt. He left instructions at each place, like he did here,” Y/N said quietly. 

“Oh, so that’s what that was, huh? A scavenger hunt?”

“What are you talking about? Did you…did you follow us?” 

“I didn’t have to! And even if I did, why are you so worried about it?” 

“Sam, I’m not worried, it’s just that’s not how this is supposed to go, Gabe made it very clear-” 

“Enough about Gabriel!” I know I’m not being myself. I know I can get angry, it’s been that way for a long time, but I can usually control it. Y/N never makes me feel like this, which I think is making it worse. The one person that I can count on to tell me the truth seems to be coming at me like _I’m_ the one that’s done something wrong. “Gabriel _made_ you kiss?” I nearly whisper it, the taste of it bitter on my tongue. I can’t look at either of them.

The room is quiet for a moment before Y/N answers. “You saw that?” 

I look up sharply, and she’s looking at me with wide eyes, tears threatening to spill.

“So you did? You kissed?” 

“You just said-”

“Forget it!” I stop and close my eyes. I need to calm down; this isn’t me. I don’t yell at Y/N, I barely even yell at Dean. When I open my eyes, Dean has stepped between me and Y/N, and part of me wants to punch him in the face, and the other part of me is angry at myself. 

“Dude, we had to play along. It’s not like this is what we wanted, you know? We both know that Gabriel doesn’t fuck around when he’s playing games like this. He wants something,  and he’s not going to stop until he gets it.”

I narrow my eyes and take a step forward, “Or maybe _you_ just enjoyed it. Maybe you’re jealous of what we have, and you want it for yourself.”

“How do you even know? If you didn’t follow us, how do you know any of that?” 

“You aren’t the only one that got instructions, Dean. Apparently Gabe is very good at surveillance. You seemed awfully cozy.” 

“Sam, I’m warning you…”

I scoff at him, “Oh, _you’re_ warning _me_. That’s rich. You know what, Dean? Why don’t you fuck off?” Another step, and I know it’s a mistake. I do it anyway. 

“Back off, Sammy.” 

“Don’t…call me…Sammy!” And then I shove him, hard. He stumbles backwards into Y/N, who hits the edge of the bed, then ends up in the floor. I stare at both of them, and I have no idea what to say. 

Suddenly, I’m the one on the ground, my jaw aching from the sudden punch that Dean just landed. He helps Y/N off the ground and puts her behind him, and my heart aches. “You need to leave, Sam. I don’t care what you’re doing, but go somewhere else, cool off.”  
  
“Dean-”

“I said go, Sam. Come back when you’ve decided to quit being an asshole.”

I stand up and walk towards the door, then turn back to look at them. The scene is infuriating; they’re standing close to each other, and though he doesn’t have his arm around her, it’s like he’s shielding her with his body. I laugh bitterly, “Maybe you guys do deserve each other after all.” I walk out and slam the door shut behind me and try to swallow the lump in my throat. 

_What the hell am I going to do?_

* * *

**Dean**

I stare at the closed door, breathing heavily, and I have no idea what to do. I turn to face Y/N, and find her sitting on the bed, her head in her hands, her body shaking. _Damn it_. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. It’s okay, he’ll calm down.” I walk over to the bed and sit next to her, and she looks up at me, her eyes bloodshot. 

“Why is Gabe doing this? I’ve never even met him, why is he making us doing this?” 

I sigh, “I have no idea. The last time he did this, he wanted us to play our parts. Maybe that’s what’s happening again…but hell, we thought he was dead this entire time. I…I don’t have a good answer.” Her head drops and my heart breaks; I want to comfort her, but I’m afraid it will make everything worse. Not being in my own body is making it even more difficult; I feel awkward, like I don’t know what to do with myself. I decide to risk it though, and reach out to wipe a tear from her cheek. She looks up at me with wide eyes, tears brimming, and I have to remind myself that I can’t. _I can’t._   

Then my hand seems to develop a mind of its own, and I reach up to her hair, smooth it from her face. She leans into my palm and closes her eyes. _Shit._

“Don’t cry…Sam is just upset. We only did what Gabe told us to do, right? He’s a smart guy, he’ll realize it. I can’t imagine how hard it is to see your girl with someone else.” _Yes, I can. I’m such a fucking liar._ “Not to mention when that guy is in your body. It’ll be okay. We’ll get switched back, and this will all be over.” _Maybe for you. I’m probably going to have find the end to it in the bottom of a bottle._

“What if we can’t go back? What if we can’t get past this?” It’s like she’s staring into my soul, and it occurs to me that she might not be talking about her and Sam anymore. I need her to stop talking, to quit hinting that she’s having the same problem I am. Because I don’t know if I _can_ go back. I don’t know that I can ignore it anymore. 

“I…I don’t know, Y/N. I honestly don’t know.” I say it quietly, but in the silence of the room, it’s almost deafening. She starts to cry again, and I put my arm around her shoulders. She’s pressing into me and, God, I _know_ can’t do it now. I know I’m in Sam’s body; the arm holding her is not mine, the eyes she keeps staring into aren’t mine. 

_None of this is mine_.

But honestly…I give zero fucks. This whole thing has broken whatever resolve I had, and I know it’s a dick move and I know that I’m going to regret it…but when she pulls away and looks back up at me, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted…I’m done for. 

Before I can even think, before it can even sink in what I’m getting ready to do, I kiss her. It’s different from before, when the jogger gave us our instructions. 

This time, it’s easy, unscripted. It’s the part of the story I never thought would happen, not after all these years, not after her and Sam got together. She kisses me back, and I keep shoving back the thought that maybe she’s thinking about Sam, maybe she’s trying to make up for him being so angry. It’s so easy to lose yourself, and maybe…maybe that’s it. 

But then I grab her hips and lift her up and over, onto my lap, and she gasps out _my_ name, tilts her head back so that I can kiss along her neck, taste the skin that I’ve been desperately trying to forget, and I forget that it’s not me actually doing any of this. For the first time since this bullshit started, I feel like _I’m_ the one in charge. Maybe it’s because, despite it only being the one night, I remember what she felt like under me, what made her press harder into me, what made her sigh and moan. It’s never left my mind, even though I’ve done a fairly good job of pushing it down, but now that we’re in the moment…it’s all back. 

I only have one last coherent thought about this giant mistake before I’m lost in her.

_We’re all fucked._


	8. Part 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabe finally explains what his purpose was behind the swap, and it's up to Dean to make it all right.

**Gabriel**

First off, let’s just get something straight with anyone getting all high and mighty.  I’m a dick. I _know_ I’m a dick, and I’ve come to terms with that. Everyone else just needs to get on board. 

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I guess I owe a bit of an explanation. See, I know it looks like I just like fucking with the Winchesters…which, admittedly, I _do_ , but this is a bit much, even for me. This whole body swap thing? Not exactly an easy thing to pull off, despite my amazing talent, and at first I thought maybe I’d just have fun with it. But here’s the thing; it was too good of an opportunity to pass up. 

The thing about dear ol’ Dean and Sammy is that they never confront _anything_. Due to their proclivity to ignore things that really matter, their lives have been, for lack of a better word…shit. I blame Dad for that, but that could just be the millennia of abandonment issues that I have. But this isn’t about me, so get off _my_ back. 

Anyway. 

Y/N is going to ruin everything, and it’s all because the boys can’t confront things, like _feelings_. Well, she _was_ going to ruin everything. Just like my brother can’t stand James Cameron and his bullshit excuse for a love theme, I can’t stand watching the Winchesters fuck up their lives. I know Dean’s trying his hardest to forget about it, I’m not even sure if he realizes just how dire his predicament is, but this was bound to happen, body swap or not. 

And Sam. _Sammy boy_. He’s got some anger issues, that one. He tries hard to hide it, unlike his more obvious older brother, but it runs deep. He’s constantly worried, and though he won’t admit it to anyone, not even himself, paranoid that the other shoe is going to drop. He is sure that Y/N will leave; because she’s scared of him, she’s tired of the life. And regardless of the reason, he’s going to blame himself. 

So, the question is: why am I torturing our two wayward heroes? 

Because they’re fucking doing it wrong. 

There are certain things in this world that have to happen. Sure, you’ve got some wiggle room, what’s free will for if you don’t have some choice, but there are specific things that just _are_. Dean made a choice several years ago, a choice that will not stand no matter how hard he fights it. See, he left behind the life he’s supposed to have. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still shit. People still die, he still loses mommy dearest. He and his brother are still going to be chauffeured around and taught to be soldiers. Their purposes are still the same. The difference is _one person_. And it’s causing a distraction. A dangerous distraction.

I say that Y/N is going to ruin it. I guess that’s unfair, she really doesn’t have a choice in the matter. But Dean does. And if they continue down this path, if they keep living the lie that they’re both living, well…it doesn’t matter if I’m fucking with them or not. Fact of the matter is, I’m selfish. I don’t want to deal with any of this, and as long as this tension is there, everything is wrong, off kilter. 

So yea, I’m a dick. But for some reason I also want to keep this world from going to hell, and if that means I have to show them, yet again, what their destinies are, then…I guess I’m a dick. 

* * *

**Dean**

I can’t tell if I’m awake or not; everything is dark, like I’m in a cave. Although it feels like…I bounce a little, take a few steps, run a hand over my face…and yep, I’m in my own body. _What the hell?_ There’s a light a little further ahead, so I start walking towards it, squinting as it gets closer and brighter. There’s a door, and standing inside of it, a shadowy figure. The person turns towards me, but I still can’t see their face.

“Hey, dipshit.” 

_Are you fucking kidding me?_

“Gabriel, I’m going to kick your Wonka wannabe ass! What kind of bullshit do you think you’re trying to pull, huh?” 

“Oh, calm down. It’s not that big of a deal-”

“Not that-” I interrupt myself and take a deep breath. It doesn’t help. “ _Not that big of a deal_? I just slept with my brother’s girl! What kind of fucking asshole does that? It never would have happened if you had just left us alone!”

“First of all, no, you didn’t. Second, yes, you would have. Have you dumbasses not learned anything during any of this?”

“Yes, I did. I think I’d know if I had sex or not.”

“I would normally agree with you, but in this instance, you’re wrong.” Gabe rolls his eyes, then smacks me in the back of the head, “Helloooooo, it wasn’t real! Trickster, remember? None of it was real. Y/N isn’t even _here_. She’s at home, in the bunker, living her best life without you two goon dicks.”

“What…” I’m speechless. _What does he mean by she’s not even here?_ “I don’t get it.” 

Gabe rolls his eyes again, and honestly, I’m beginning to wonder if he has any other setting other than bored contempt for whoever he’s talking to. “No. She’s not here. None of what just happened is real. Well, real _yet_. But it will be if you two don’t get your shit together.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Y/N is with Sam, and apparently has been for awhile. There’s no ‘getting our shit together’,” I airquote angrily, “because there’s no shit to get…together…” I trail off, realizing that there’s no good way to end that sentence. _Could have thought that through a little better, Winchester_.

Gabe closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose, his lips pursed together, then pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s…the entire… _point_.” He starts walking around me and I keep turning to face him as he paces. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be! You walked away from her, left her because you thought it was better for her. But here she is, in your life anyway, doing the very thing you were trying to avoid. It didn’t matter, do you understand? The only difference is, she’s not with you. And if she’s not with you, she’s with Sam, and that doesn’t work.”

“Why the hell does that matter?” 

He flings his arms out in frustration, “Did you not just watch what happened? If she’s with Sam, everything is wrong. The world is off kilter, there’s always going to be a nagging thought in _all_ your minds. You’re going to pine after her like some sad little puppy, she’s going to wonder why you didn’t want her, and Sam is going to feel like there’s something wrong at every turn. Have you met yourselves? Things eat at you and eat at you, and then you fucking lose your shit at each other. I think we both know that you’d never sleep with your brother’s girl on purpose, and maybe that exact scenario wouldn’t play out, but _something_ will. And then the world’s going to go to hell, and you’re all going to be too distracted by the little soap opera playing out to function.” 

“Why do you even care? You’re always hiding from your problems, hell, we thought you were dead for _years_! Why does this even matter to you?” 

“Despite what you might think, I do actually care. I just like having other people take care of things. The _Winchesters_ are this world’s saviors, not me. And regardless of how you think I feel, I kind of care what happens to you assholes. At this point, it’s a twofer.” He gestures towards the door, “You’ve got one chance to fix this. _One_.” 

I walk closer to the door, and see that it’s pouring out. I see a hotel, lights dimmed by the curtain of rain, and my eyes travel along the building, to the office, and then up at the sign. 

_The Red Bird Inn_.

I will never forget the name of that hotel, and I swallow thickly.

“Are you serious?” 

“More serious than when you get the paper back from the doctor and you’ve passed all the tests, if you know what I mean.” 

I look at him and grimace, “That’s…that’s disgusting.” 

He shrugs, “But also very serious.” 

I look back at the hotel, at the dim light shining from Room 12. “So I can just…go back? I go back and she stays with me? Nothing happens to her?” 

Gabe shrugs again, “I can’t tell you that. The moment you walk back into that room, everything changes. The course corrects itself, but it also means that everything will be slightly different.” He pulls a sucker from his pocket, unwraps it, and pops it into his mouth, “But I think it’s worth a chance, don’t you?” 

I don’t answer him. I run through the doorway and into the deluge, rain stinging my eyes, and pound on the door. It flies open and Y/N stares at me with wide eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks. I stare back, breathing heavily as my heart races at the realization of what this means. Before she can say anything, I press my palms to her cheeks and kiss her. 

I kiss her like my life depends on it, like _our_ lives depend on it. And if Gabriel is right…well, maybe they do. She pulls me into the room and I kick the door shut behind me.

God, Gabriel better be right.

* * *

The light shining on my face is what stirs me from sleep, the warmth and brightness slipping through the cracks reminds me of something I can’t quite put my finger on. I stretch and groan, my eyes squeezed shut at the sun threatening to burn out my retinas. 

“Oh, look who’s awake. Here, got some coffee.” I hear the sound of a paper cup sitting on the nightstand next to me and crack an eye open.

Sam sits down at the table next to the window and opens his laptop. I turn my head slightly and see some sort of fancy coffee company label staring back at me. I groan and drop my head back and Sam laughs, “Don’t worry, it’s just regular coffee. I figured you’d need it after last night.” 

“What do you mean?” I croak out, wincing at how rough my voice sounds. 

“You really don’t remember? You and Y/N decided going shot for shot was a good idea. I’m pretty sure she won, but looking at the two of you now, I’m not sure either of you is a winner.” 

I look down and notice an arm draped over my chest and follow it up to a bare shoulder, face pressed into the pillow next to me. She rolls over and looks at me through her hair, her eyes barely open. 

“Damn straight, I won.” She sits up and pulls the blankets up to cover herself, then reaches over my body to get the coffee. “I always look like a winner, Samuel. I could be rocking Tammy Faye Bakker mascara and still look like a winner.” She takes a sip of coffee and closes her eyes as she swallows and I can’t help but smile. 

“That’s my girl.” I reach up and brush hair from her face, and she smiles down at me. 

“I’d say get a room, but… “ Sam stares at his computer as I take the cup of coffee out of Y/N’s hand and sit it back down on the nightstand.

“You may want to leave for a little while, Sammy.” He looks up in time to see me pull Y/N into my lap and scrambles to get his bag and laptop. 

“You could wait a second, Jesus!” He bounds out the door and it slams shut behind him. “Check out is at noon!” He shouts as he goes by the window. Y/N laughs, and the sound is like music to my ears. I stare at her, something nagging at the back of my mind, and she tilts her head. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, I…” I trail off, a quick glimpse of a hotel door in the rain flashing through my mind. But just like that it’s gone, and I shake my head. “I’m just really lucky.” 

“I think we both are.” She leans down and kisses me, and whatever nagging thought I was having is gone.

_Very, very lucky._


End file.
